


DD D&D

by Neurocrat



Series: Daredevil Dungeons & Dragons [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: (Role-playing as in the tabletop kind not the bedroom kind), Because Elektra makes them and they fail their Will saves, Drug Use, Dungeons & Dragons, Elektra is the DM, F/M, Foggy is a bard, Hurt/comfort vicariously through D&D characters, Law School, M/M, Marci is new to D&D, Marci’s a badass barbarian, Marijuana, Matt & Foggy mutual lust expressed through D&D characters, Matt is a monk-rogue not surprisingly, Nerd!Everybody, Role-Playing Game, Secret love, She pretends to disparage it but she’s secretly as big a nerd as any of them, Vicarious sexy times, Voyeur Marci is into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurocrat/pseuds/Neurocrat
Summary: Our intrepid law student gang has the perfect way to relax: get wasted and run around in a fantasy world as fighters and spell-casters. Beat up monsters, find treasure… And maybe engage in some sweet, sweet dungeon lovin’.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! Dangerous levels of dorkiness ahead! If you do not know what a D20 or a Will save is, you may be too cool for this fic. (But, you should be able to figure it all out from context, if you want to come over to the nerd side and read this anyway.)

The door opens with gusto and Marci sweeps into the room. “Hello, nerds,” she announces brightly, coming over to hover over the table where Elektra, Matt and Foggy are already sitting. They’re in the dorm-like apartment Foggy and Matt rent together from subsidized law school housing.

“Yay! You made it,” Foggy says, as he packs a bowl into a bong. Elektra raises her eyebrows and makes a surprised and impressed face, as if she lost a minor bet.

Marci takes a hard look at the charts, maps, and figurines laid out on the table, and sighs, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe I agreed to this. Well in any case – I was promised weed. Thank you, Foggy, I’ll take that--” She snatches the bong out of his hands over his weak protests, picks up a lighter off the table, and takes a deep, long drag.

“Marci,” Matt acknowledges, a bit prickly. “Murdock,” croaks Marci back at him, releasing a long trail of smoke. Elektra regards them both with detached interest, sipping, out of a red Solo cup, some fine wine that she’d brought. Marci takes a seat on the opposite side of Foggy from where Matt’s sitting. “Alright, I’m almost ready. Let me take like three more hits and then let’s _do_ this dorkfest. I’m gonna get my barbarian on.”

“You’re going to be a barbarian? Oh good, we need a fighter,” Matt says.

“Hells to the yeah. Big, blond and badass.” Marci takes a folded piece of paper out of her purse and waves it at Matt. “Foggy helped me figure out all the stats. Her name is Cleopatella the Brave, and she’ll kick your ass. Plus, she’s sexy as fuck and will get all the dudes.” She winks at Foggy. “I might’ve based her on someone we know.”

Foggy leans over to scrutinize Marci’s character sheet. “You’re right that she kicks ass, but may I point out to you again that her Charisma is 8. I don’t think she’ll be getting all the dudes. Of their own free will, anyway.”

“Whatever, Nelson. She’s blond and hot.”

“She is a half-orc, Marci,” Foggy points out. Matt bites off a laugh.

Marci shrugs, eyes wide. “So what? Are you saying orcs can’t be good-looking? That seems kind of racist, counselor.”

“Enough,” Elektra says. “We’re all here, let’s get started.” She sets up a folding card in front of her DM station.

“Wait, read off the rest of your character sheet, I want to know what we’ve got in our party,” Matt says.

“You first,” Marci says.

Matt grins proudly, his fingers resting on a Braille character sheet. “I’m Sebastian Murlocke, monk assassin with a cross-class level in rogue. Half-elf, good at moving silently, sneaking up on enemies, hand-to-hand combat, and navigating in the dark. Working towards the shadowdancer prestige class – then I’ll be able to see in complete darkness, and hide in plain sight.”

Marci’s mouth falls open. “How does he get to do all that?” She demands of Foggy. “I want to see in the dark and sneak up on people.”

“You wanted the orc bonuses,” Foggy says. “Which makes sense for a fighter. And you aren’t going to be sneaking up on anyone wearing that clanking armor that makes you so hard to hit. You can’t have everything – that’s the point.”

“Right,” Marci grumbles. “Like how you wouldn’t let me put all my skill points in Profession: Barrister. This game sucks.”

“Come again?” Elektra says, putting down the dice she’s been rolling around in her hands. She turns to Foggy. “You let her put skill points in Profession: Barrister?”

Foggy throws up his hands. “She insisted.”

“I’m just trying to make it realistic,” Marci says, as if that makes any sense.

Elektra smiles at the ceiling. “I’m going to have so much fun killing you all.”

“…How many points of Barrister do you have, Marci?” Matt asks, casually.

“Seven, why?”

Matt runs his finger over the skill part of his character sheet and frowns.

“Not you, too, Matthew?” Elektra sighs. “You know I love your giant ego, but you must learn how to use it with more finesse.” Matt throws a side-eye-type of face in her direction.

“Yeah, that’s ridiculous, Murdock,” Marci agrees, taking another hit off the bong and blowing it out alongside Matt’s head. “A sneaky ninja monk who sees in the dark and is a lawyer for his day job? Give me a break.”

Matt clenches his jaw, looking like he might punch Marci if he let himself move, and Foggy feels the need to break the tension.

“Hey, party compatriots! That’s enough razzing each others’ characters, now it’s time to have fun! This is going to be great. You’ll see, Marci. You’ll love it.” He takes the bong from her and takes a hit himself.

Elektra unfolds her dungeon map behind her folding screen. “You’re all going to die painfully and horribly,” she says with glee.

Marci looks at her for a second with a blank face, then turns back to Foggy. “Weed, and snacks. I believe I was also promised snacks,” she says dryly. Foggy obligingly hands her a bag of Cheetos.

\---

An hour later, everyone is messier, more intoxicated, leaning back more in their chairs. Only Elektra still looks elegant, somehow, smoking a cigarette and still drinking her fine wine from its plastic cup like she just doesn’t care. Her feet, clad in leather high-heeled boots, are resting up on a spare chair she’d pulled over. She’s relaxed, in her element, punishing the player-characters mercilessly. Every treasure chest springs a trap on them, or animates and attacks them; there are hidden pits in the floors of the dungeon, fire and poison and knives flying at them each time they open a door to a new room. Matt’s one level of rogue just doesn’t give him rolls high enough to detect all the traps. They’re all taking a lot of damage, and Foggy’s bard character, Ozzie Snaggletooth, is kept busy healing them.

After an exhausting slog cleaning out a den of kobolds, Matt has lost too many hit points to risk him failing to disarm yet another trap. Foggy puts a hand on real-life Matt’s shoulder, role-playing the contact between the characters: “Cure light wounds,” he says, rolling a D20 with his other hand. Matt absently puts his hand over Foggy’s while Foggy announces his roll and how many hit points Sebastian Murlocke wins back. Elektra watches as Matt rubs some Cheeto powder off Foggy’s fingers, brings his hand to his mouth to lick it off, and makes a face.

“Ugh. How do you people eat this stuff.”

“MSG, Murdock. Puts hair on your chest,” Marci says, crunching happily from the pile of Cheetos in front of her.

Foggy has moved on to Doritos, his hand deep in the bag. “We’ll leave you to your tree bark and pussywillows picked by the light of the full moon,” he smirks at Matt, who is finishing up a salad bowl with bean sprouts and tofu.

Matt smiles serenely. “Diet builds the body; the body shapes the mind,” he says, like he’s quoting someone.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re a pussywillow, and Foggy and I are crunchy and delicious,” Marci counters.

“That’s why my GPA is so much better than both of yours,” Matt responds calmly.

“Whatever,” says Marci. “Who cares about grades, when Cleopatella could totally kick Sebastian’s butt.”

Matt laughs a little too demonstratively. “The hell she could.”

“Okay, now, kids, no intra-party fighting,” Foggy scolds them.

“Let’s go, you pointy-eared monk-lawyer,” Marci says, bouncing in her seat and rubbing her hands together. “This’ll be way more fun than beating up those stupid lizard people.”

“I’d be delighted to hand your ass to you, Cleopatella. What is that, anyway – an Egyptian knee bone?”

Foggy throws out a hand on each side of him to grip their arms. “Shut up, you two, you’re both being boneheads. I only have one more cure-light-wounds for the day, and we’re out of potions until we find more. You are _not_ fucking fighting each other.”

“If you kill each other, that takes all the fun out of it for me,” Elektra chimes in. “I want a challenge. It’s too easy if you tear each other apart like – what’s that delightful term you Americans use? – _noobs_.”

Matt settles back in his chair, turning a placating face toward Elektra. “Sorry, darling. We’ll restrain ourselves.”

“Yeah. I bet she’ll restrain _you_ later,” Marci mumbles, to much blushing and consternation from Matt (and, interestingly, also from Foggy) and a pleased laugh from Elektra.

“I like this one,” Elektra tells Foggy, tilting her head at Marci as if she wasn’t right there. “Why’d you break up with her again?”

“Um, long story for another time?” Foggy offers, as Marci talks over him, “He couldn’t handle the heat, plus he’s in love with mmmmph--“ Foggy smushes his hand over her mouth.

\---

Elektra has a staircase animate and attack them. A _staircase_. The party becomes paranoid after that, hacking up all furniture they find as soon as they enter a room.

But first, Ozzie has to tend once again to Sebastian, cut up and dying on the floor of the dungeon room strewn with the wood scraps that used to be a staircase – wood scraps that are still twitching and crawling toward them, as Elektra narrates it.

“Cure light wounds,” Foggy says again, reaching out to ruffle Matt’s hair.

“You have to touch him to do that, don’t you,” Marci observes.

“Yes, the _laying on of hands_ ,” Foggy intones meaningfully, wiggling his eyebrows. Snorts of laughter all around, except from Matt, who is biting his lip.

“But, not just Ozzie Osbourne touching Sebastian Stan or whatever – you, Franklin Nelson, touch actual Matt Murdock each time, too.”

“I’m just role-playing,” Foggy says. “Can’t a guy role-play a little? Where are you going with this line of questioning?”

“Roll for your god-damned hit points, Mr. Nelson,” Elektra requests patiently. 

Foggy rolls. He heals Matt’s character some, but it isn’t enough. “We’ll have to rest overnight here,” Foggy says.

“I’m fine, really,” Matt says. “Let’s keep going.”

“No! We rest. We can’t risk it.”

“Foggy.”

“I’m not hearing it, Matt,” Foggy says firmly at his friend. “I’m not risking your sorry monk skin.”

“We can’t afford the time to rest right now,” Matt argues. “And it isn’t a safe place to rest.”

“I will reiterate,” Elektra chimes in, “that your party of broke, sad, 4th-level peasants cannot afford resurrection spells yet, so if Sebastian Murlocke dies, he is gone forever. Matt would be forced to roll up a new character.”

“Matt!” Foggy cries. “You can’t let Sebastian Murlocke die. He’s too good… You spent so much time making that character, getting everything right. He’s such a perfect character for you.”

Nobody notices Elektra watching them both like a hawk, rolling a D20 up and down her forearm slowly like a Globetrotter with a tiny basketball.

Matt blinks in surprise at Foggy’s passion for his character. Foggy tones it down a little. “And, you know, your character is just too valuable to the party.”

Marci snorts. “Yeah. He disarms, what, about 25 percent of the traps? I might do just as well without any Disable Device skill points.”

Matt sighs. “Okay, okay. We’ll rest.”

“Right here in this dungeon room?” Marci asks, incredulously. “Cleopatella wants a mug of ale and a nice bed in a comfy inn.”

“We can make a fire out of the staircase wood,” Foggy offers. “Oh wait – it had fire resistance, didn’t it? Shit.”

Elektra suddenly sports a wicked grin. “It’s actually too damp in the room to light kindling, in fact. And over the course of the night, it grows damper and very cold in the room. Sebastian is going to lose more hit points from sickness setting in if you don’t remedy this somehow.”

“I wrap my hot bard body around him,” Foggy states immediately, with conviction. “And I sing him beautiful bard lullabies all night.”

“That’s my Foggy,” Marci says, a little wistfully. “No shame.”

Matt’s mouth hangs open for a second, but he recovers himself and smiles. “Aww, Foggy. That’s, that’s sweet,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

Elektra looks pleased. “Foggy, give me Ozzie’s Constitution modifier.” Foggy does. She rolls a die, announces, “Alright. Sadly for me, Sebastian Murlocke is kept warm enough all night to not catch pneumonia.

“And what’s your Charisma score, Foggy?” She continues. Foggy tells her, “14, why?”

“Ah yes, the handsome and alluring bard,” Elektra purrs. She makes another roll, looking devilish.

“Well, shucks, thanks,” Foggy smooths his hair. “I mean, as a professional entertainer, I have to charm everyone with my witty poetry and lute-playing.”

“You are so lucky that is not how you tried to charm me,” Marci interjects, unwrapping a Little Debbie Snack Cake.

“Matt, make a Will save,” Elektra says lightly.

Matt rolls a D20, runs his fingertips over the indented number on the top side. “Hmm, I rolled a 6. So that’s 13, adding my base save and Wisdom bonus. Where is this going? ….Oh.”

“ _Oh_ ,” says Foggy, eyes wide.

Elektra grins at them. “As Sebastian heals during the night, he becomes, shall we say, over-aware of Ozzie’s _hot, bard body_ , as Foggy so eloquently put it. Sebastian becomes intensely, helplessly aroused.”

“Whoa!” Marci says, sitting up straighter. “This nerd stuff is starting to take an interesting turn.”

Matt has hidden his face in his arms on the tabletop. “I’m just going to stay down here,” he says, his voice muffled.

“Now, let me see. If memory serves, Matthew, you also have a Charisma of 14. Points that would have better served you in Constitution… But, it’s _so_ important to be pretty while one is sneak-attacking. And your Will save, Foggy?”

Foggy swallows and rolls a die. “I rolled a natural 1,” Foggy says. “Automatic fail.” He laughs nervously toward Matt, who makes a strangled noise and wraps one arm around the back of his head.

Elektra _tsks_. “As I said. Sometimes you noobs make it too easy for me. Alright then. Ozzie feels himself completely overcome with lust for his fellow party-member, the extremely sexy monk-rogue.” She grazes Matt’s leg under the table with one of her high heels. Marci has scarfed her snack cake, and is now tossing Cheetos in her mouth like popcorn at a thriller flick.

“Sebastian, you feel something hard and…” Elektra runs her eyes over Foggy – “…And thrillingly _large_ press into your backside.”

“…Why, thank you, Elektra… How the hell did you _know_?” Foggy murmurs, sounding a little scared. Marci squints at Elektra.

“You’ve already failed your Will save,” Elektra goes on. “Your defenses are completely overcome--”

“Yeah, we get it,” Matt says, lifting his head up. “Our characters get it on. Whatever amuses Her Majesty the DM. Better than getting beat up by a living staircase.” He’s making a valiant effort to laugh it off.

Elektra smiles wider. “Role-play it,” she tells him. “For experience points. Both of you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” says Matt.

Foggy makes a small, pitiful noise in his throat.

“Experience points, Murdock, you can’t pass those up,” says Marci, matter-of-factly, crunching Cheetos. “That’s the only way you get to level up and start being a shadowdancer. You too, Foggy Bear. We could really use those level 5 spells. Pass me that +1 magical bong.”

Foggy hands her the bong, runs both hands over his face, and sighs. “Seriously, Elektra? You want me to role-play getting it on with your boyfriend?”

“Ozzie Snaggletooth getting it on with Sebastian Murlocke,” Elektra corrects. “Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Right, Matthew?”

Matt is trying to slide down his chair under the table.

“Well, okay,” Foggy says, “if I must. _For experience points_. They do say I have a way with words…” He clears his throat, looks at Matt, quickly looks away. For his part, Matt has grabbed Elektra’s bottle of wine and is chugging straight from it.

Foggy begins. “I’m, um, wrapped around him, right? I mean. Ozzie is wrapped around Sebastian. Spooning him. Ozzie notices that Sebastian is breathing heavily, so he lifts his head up to look at Sebastian, to check on him. He brushes Sebastian’s hair away from his face gently. But Sebastian’s okay. He’s awake, in fact. He turns his face toward Ozzie’s, moaning his name-“

“Jesus, Foggy!” Matt cuts him off.

Foggy starts. “I – Sorry, Matty, I didn’t mean-“

“No, I just-. You need to let me role-play my part – you can’t tell me what to do.”

Elektra has amazing self-control, and does not fall on the floor laughing.

“Right, of course,” Foggy says, weakly. “Go for it, Matt.”

“Sebastian turns his head toward Ozzie, behind him, and whispers Ozzie’s name,” Matt says, in a low, flat voice. “Then he reaches up and kisses Ozzie.”

“Yep,” Foggy says, sounding utterly defeated. “Yep, Ozzie kisses back.”

Elektra tilts her head. “Sebastian’s going to get a crick in his neck, poor thing.”

“I roll over to face – Sebastian rolls over to face Ozzie,” Matt obliges. “Wraps his arms around him. They keep kissing.”

“Ozzie slips him some tongue,” Foggy blurts out, at the ceiling. Matt pauses, at a loss, so Foggy shrugs, like _fuck it_ : “And grabs his ass.”

Marci lets out a whoop between puffs of smoke.

“And Matthew, how does Sebastian respond to that?” Elektra asks, twirling a pen between her fingers.

“Um. Sebastian… Groans,” Matt offers. “And. Wraps his top leg over Ozzie’s hip.”

“Oh my god. It’s like a game of Twister,” Marci says, “between my ex-boyfriend and my ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend.” Nobody corrects her.

“And we make out all night, The End!” Foggy quickly wraps up.

“Now, Foggy,” Elektra scolds gently, “you did fail your Will save completely, did you not? Do you really imagine Ozzie has no further impulses to act on than to chastely kiss Sebastian?”

Foggy slaps both hands down on the table with a frustrated noise. “Elektra, did you ever consider law school, by any chance? I just ask because you’re pretty good at logical entrapment.”

“Don’t try to distract me with flattery,” Elektra says.

“Fine. Okay, um,” Foggy looks at Matt. “Okay. You’ve got your leg over me, and we’re sucking face. I uh, run my hands through your hair…”

“Sebastian’s,” says Matt. “Sebastian’s hair.” His voice has a wobble in it.

“Pull you – pull Sebastian close, and slide my hands up under his tunic.”

“To what end?” asks Elektra.

“To what end--? To do whatever people like to do to, you know, washboard stomachs, bulging pecs… Perpetually hard nipples…”

“What are you saying,” Matt asks, fighting a smile, “About Sebastian?”

“What does Sebastian do, Matthew?” Elektra asks.

“He undoes Ozzie’s pants,” Matt says. He’s bright red, but his voice has taken on a dreamy quality, as if in a sort of trance. He’s sitting perfectly still, as if afraid to move. “He reaches inside, takes ahold of … Ozzie …”

“Yes,” says Foggy involuntarily.

“He strokes him, lazily at first, then picking up speed. Somehow, Sebastian knows exactly how Ozzie likes to be touched.”

Foggy may have made a noise, but he is drowned out by Marci’s low moan. “Holy Christ on a _donkey_ , you guys.”

Foggy shakes his head. “Well, Ozzie doesn’t last long, in the face of that,” he admits matter-of-factly. “Ozzie comes all over himself and Sebastian’s hand. That’s it. We’d better get a shitload of experience points for this, Elektra!”

“…What about Sebastian?” Matt asks, the corner of his mouth quirking.

“Sorry, buddy, Ozzie is one of those guys who falls asleep like the dead the second after coming. You hear loud snoring coming from him, like, immediately. You shake him, and he’s non-responsive.”

“Ozzie doesn’t stay awake just this once,” Matt asks quietly, “as Sebastian gets up on his knees and presses his dick to Ozzie’s lips?”

“You guys!” Marci squeals. “You guys! I am going to need a break pretty soon! Some me-time!”

Foggy turns and takes Matt by the shoulders, in real life, shaking him a little. “Alright, Matt, come on. Your girlfriend-slash-owner is sitting right the fuck there.”

Elektra lights up another cigarette, leans back in her chair. “A good owner lets her dog play in the dog park,” she says, a bit cryptically.

Foggy looks at her, mouth open; drops his hands from Matt. “I … think I’m offended?” he says slowly. “I don’t even know.”

Matt is facing towards Elektra, still except for his eyebrows slowly climbing up his head. She smiles and winks at him, making a click sound with her mouth along with the wink.

“For _fuck’s sake_ ,” Marci breathes. “If that was all it took, Nelson… Shit, _I_ could have let you play in the ‘dog park’.”

\---

They’re out of potions and are limping along with hardly any hit points, but they triumphed over a group of cave trolls and claimed the trolls’ treasure, a +1 broadsword perfect for Cleopatella. “Score,” says Marci.

“So, next time we fight, remember to add in that +1 magic weapon bonus when you roll to hit,” Foggy explains helpfully, showing where to write it in on her character sheet.

“I don’t know how you all keep track of all these statistics when you’re stoned and drunk,” Marci says. “And: What do you mean, ‘next time’?” Elektra is packing up her books, dice, and maps; they’ve been playing for hours, and they’re finished for the day.

“This is just the first session of this campaign,” Matt says. “We’ll be playing every Sunday.”

“I dunno, y’all, this was fun and everything, but… Three hours of my precious time, every Sunday? ”

“Please, Marci, come on. We can’t have a full party without you,” Foggy begs.

“How will I ever get any guys if they know I spend my free time pretending I’m a barbarian, fighting orcs by rolling dice with too many sides? I will be celibate for the rest of my life.”

Foggy ponders this. “Well, I have to admit you have a point, none of my D & D-related pick-up lines ever work,” he says. “Seriously, though, don’t worry – your secret is safe with us. What happens in role playing, stays in role playing. _Right_ , Matt?”

Matt ignores him. “If you keep playing with us,” Matt tells Marci with a sly smile, “You can keep watching Sebastian Murlocke seduce Ozzie Snaggletooth.”

Foggy seems struck speechless by that, but Marci considers. “That _was_ pretty fucking awesome,” she says, nodding. Matt waits, listening.

Finally, Marci points a finger at each of them in turn. “None of you ever breathe a word about this, that I play Dungeons and Dragons with you nerds. Got it?”

Foggy cheers and pumps a fist. “Got it,” Matt agrees. Elektra smiles and says “Of course”, as if she wouldn’t deign to speak with law students, anyhow.

Marci grabs her purse. “Okay then, it’s a deal. Same time next Sunday!” And she’s out.

Foggy turns to Matt, standing next to him. “Matt… _Keep_ watching…?” He begins, trailing off.

Matt shrugs innocently. “Whatever I had to do to get her to come back,” he says. “C’mon, Foggy. You can take one for the team.” He reaches out for Foggy’s hand and laces their fingers together, smiling brightly in the general direction of Foggy’s mouth. Foggy looks from Matt to Elektra, but she just gazes toward them and nods approvingly. Foggy looks back at Matt.

“For the team,” Foggy replies. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly inspired by my first ever D&D group, a bunch of stoner law students (seriously)  
> ...  
> From the D&D Wiki: “Shadowdancers are creepy guys and gals who hang out in the shadows. Occasionally, they jump out of those shadows and stab people in the face. Why? You'd have to ask the specific Shadowdancer.”  
> …  
> On a mostly unrelated note: Would it be bad if I shipped Misty Knight and Foggy Nelson just so I can call them Spooky Precipitation? (Thank you I’ll be here all night)


End file.
